Another 2 A. M.
by Ryoko no Shinigami
Summary: Just a little depressing writing exercise I did to make sure my angst muse was still alive. Happy day, she was, and this is the result.


Title: Another 2 a.m.  
  
Author: Ryoko no Shinigami  
  
Warnings: 13x5 implied, all of one curse word, angst, and freakyweird dead ghost girl things.  
  
Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, I DO own Gundam Wing. The rights to it are in my back pocket right now. Soon, I'm gonna sue the ass off all you other upstart fanfic writers who're using my show for your cheap thrills.  
  
Don't trip over the sarcasm.  
  
Authors Notes: This is just a quick little angst-ridden writing exercise I did to keep Ryoko the angst muse happy. The title is shamelessly borrowed from 'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac', a wonderful comic by Jhohen Vasques (without permission, I might add. I'm such an awful person. ;)) So, to free me of any guilt I may (or may not,) be feeling for ripping off my fave comics writer, I suggest you go out and buy a copy of 'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac' for your very own.  
  
This shameless promotion is now over. Please return to your regularly scheduled fanfiction.  
  
Dedication: To Holly-chan, a.k.a. Sparkles! My first 13+5, and it's for you!  
  
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It's night time, long past midnight, and I am in my bed. The full moon shines through my open window, only occasionally hidden by a stray cloud- wisp.  
  
I am alone.  
  
And, as always when I am alone at night, Nataku is talking to me.  
  
Tonight, she expounds on her new favorite subject: The love affair between myself and Treize Kushrinada.  
  
"Hah. You think he loves you? How could he love you, a weak little boy?"  
  
"He loves me." I am not going to be broken this early in the game.  
  
"He lies to you. He doesn't love you. Outcast from your clan, no one could ever love you."  
  
"He doesn't care about the clan."  
  
"But he knows, doesn't he? And how long will it be before he wonders why you were outcast, why they didn't want you?"  
  
"They needed me to protect them."  
  
She laughes, sharp and bitter. "The dragon clan needed you to protect them? You? A weak baby, a scholar? How could you protect the great clan? You're nothing. You're worthless. They sent you away because it would be the easiest way to kill you."  
  
"No…" my words are mere whispers now, and I can feel my defenses breaking down.  
  
She can feel it, too.  
  
"Oh, look at you, Wufei, crying like a child who's stubbed his toe. Look at how weak you are."  
  
Weak.  
  
She knows it's the one thing, the only thing that can get her through all my defenses, into my heart, and into my fears. But I'm not going down without a fight.  
  
"No…"  
  
She laughs, high and sweet like the girl she is. "Weak! No one wants you, Treize Kushrinada least of all. He's just using you. And you know it."  
  
"He loves me."  
  
"He's using you. You know it, don't you? And that's why you're afraid. You don't know, do you, whether you can face him again."  
  
"I love him… I do!"  
  
"Love is a foolish crutch used only by the weak. You cling to him because you're weak."  
  
Maybe she's right… Maybe I stay with him because he is the only one who can banish my demons. He's the only one who can send her away…  
  
"No! He says love is noble, the one pursuit of the heart of a great man!"  
  
And her voice replies, taunting singsong. "He's lying to you… And he's your enemy."  
  
That's the fuck of it. The first time I feel true love for anyone, and it has to be for my greatest enemy.  
  
"And if you meet him on the field of battle, what then? Can you really say, Wufei, that you could do your job and kill him?"  
  
"We've… kept everything separate. We're lovers and enemies, but not at the same time."  
  
"Could you raise your sword and run him through the heart? Feel his spine shatter under your blade?"  
  
My hands are clenched in fists. My fingernails are digging half-moons into my palms, and a part of me wonders what it will feel like if they start bleeding.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh, really? And could you twist the blade and see all his guts on the ground?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And could you look into his eyes and see the betrayal there as he dies?"  
  
Silence. Then…  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I don't believe you. And you don't believe yourself."  
  
My shoulders slump. "I know."  
  
"And you know how weak you are?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good."  
  
And she's gone, for this night at least. And I'm left alone again, to sob into my pillow for another 2 a.m. 


End file.
